


The Pirate and the Royal

by Sini333



Series: JohnLock One-Shots [10]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, johnlock - Fandom
Genre: British Navy Captain Sherlock, John had a rough life, M/M, Pirate John, sex on a desk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 10:44:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13973391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sini333/pseuds/Sini333
Summary: Captain Watson's crew takes down a navy ship, one of the captives calls a parlay. Watson has seen this young man before.





	The Pirate and the Royal

"Cap'n! We've taken down a Navy ship." John grinned, swinging his legs off the side of his bed and grabbing his hat and cutlass.

"Excellent! Have you taken care of the crew?"

"Well sir, not exactly." John spun to face his First Mate, Mikey. The short, heavyset man flinched at the action, fiddling with his hat and staring worriedly at the color.

"What? I thought I said; 'no prisoners?' What part of that did you not understand?"

"W-Well- uh I-I mean- the- the C-Captain-" John growled and stepped closer to the other man, irritation flooding his veins.

"Spit it out Stamford. I've no time for your nervous tittering."

"Sorry S-Sir. T-The C-Captain Sir, he called a Parlay." John blinked uncertainly. The only people that ever called for Parlay were other pirates, not Navy Captains. He pushed past Stamford and hurried up to the deck.

His crew was shouting excitedly, crowded around the mast of the ship. He pushed his way through the crowd, the shouts and laughter of the crew falling quiet as they became aware of his presence. He elbowed his way to the middle of the crowd, taking in the sight that lay before him.

A tall, thin, pale young man was tied to the mast, hands bound above his head. He was shouting at one of the crew members and tugging on his restraints.

"-for a Parlay. You are required by law to take me to your Captain, with no harm done to my person." The crew laughed, causing the man to blush and fight harder.

"If you wish for the Parlay to be fulfilled, then stop tugging on your ropes. You'll injure your wrists." John spoke, loud enough for his voice to be heard over his crew. The pale man's eyes met his and a chill ran down his spine.

"Tell your Captain I wish to speak to him, if you have the brain cells left to do so." John smirked, stepping closer to the young man and signalling for his crew to cut him down.

His knees struck the deck and one of the crew members grabbed him by his curls and forced his head back, placing a cutlass at his throat. John knelt in front of the man, allowing a dark edge to taint his smirk.

"I'm the Captain of this vessel boy. You called for a Parlay, consider yourself lucky I'm even talking to you. Parlay is only honoured between pirate captains, not Naval Officers. So, speak before I have Greggy here take you downstairs." He leaned in close and growled into the ear of the pale man. "We've been at sea for a long time and my crew is rather lonely. My cabin does an excellent job of blocking out screams from the Brig." He could feel the tension in the younger man's body grow.

"You would have your men sodomize me, simply because I'm not a pirate? Not exactly in keeping with your moral code, is it, Captain Watson?"

"I would have my men do nothing more than take you down to the Brig. What happens to you down there is none of my concern, as I said; I can't hear anything from my cabin."

"You don't seem too concerned that a Naval Officer knows your name."

"I'm a pirate captain that controls a fleet of ships nearly 20 wide. I would be concerned if you didn't know my name." The young man smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. John felt a flare of danger in his gut. This strange young man had piqued his interest to say the least. "You have me at a disadvantage though, I've yet to learn your name." The young man licked his lips and chuckled.

"Oh, you know my name Captain Watson. You dress and carry yourself like a man raised with no scruples, yet you speak with the tongue of a nobleman. You were raised in Royal Court, but only until the age of ten or eleven, old enough for the language to stick but not the behaviours. Your father was a member of the Courts but was kicked out after a nasty scandal involving a priest. You lived on the streets until you found your way to the docks, where you stowed away on a pirate ship. The rest as they say, is history." John gaped at the young man, his mind reeling.

"Witchcraft! He's a demon!" The distressed cries of his crew filled the air. John held the young man's eyes, his lips twitching into a grin. He held up his hand, instantly silencing his men.

"He's no demon, just a clever boy that doesn't know when to shut up." The young man chuckled and squirmed. "Set him free." The angry mob of men shouted in protest, but soon quieted down when John raised his hand. Stamford stepped forward, wringing his hat in his hands.

"Cap'n, if you don't mind my asking; why are you setting him free?"

"Because Mikey, this is not just any Naval Officer. This, is the infamous Sherlock Holmes of the Royal Court of Her Majesty the Queen."

 

Less than five minutes later, Sherlock Holmes was unbound and standing before John in his cabin. The silence that filled the space between them was awkward, neither sure what to say.

"I believe the rules of Parlay require-"

"We've long passed the standard of Parlay Mr. Holmes, I am bound by no laws. Therefore, witnesses are not required for our conversations." John reached for the bottle of whiskey he kept hidden in his desk, reserved for special occasions. He grabbed a pair of glasses and poured himself and Sherlock a drink, handing one to the younger man. "You are safe in here Mr. Holmes."

"You threatened to let your men rape me if I didn't speak, why should I believe that I'm safe now?" John chuckled, leaning back in his chair taking a swig of the whiskey.

"You know me Mr. Holmes. Do you honestly believe I would actually let anyone harm an innocent?"

"You are a far cry from the timid little boy that used to play in the halls of the Royal Court."

"I could say the same for you Mr. Holmes. You used to swing your little wooden sword and spin your little tales of how you would be the most feared pirate captain to ever sail the high seas. You used to curse your parents when they talked of you taking over the command one day. What happened to that little boy eh?"

"His best friend left!" The room filled with tension as Sherlock slammed the glass on the desk. "Everything was fine, then one day I get called into my father's office and he tells me that your dad was fucking the priest and him and his family had been forced out."

"I had nothing to do with that-"

"No, but you didn't fight to stay. I could have vouched for you-"

"I was tainted Sherlock, they wouldn't have let me stay even if the Queen herself begged. He fucked the priest, then came home and took out his guilt on his family." John stood, seething at the memories of having to leave his home, his friend.

"I-I never knew-"

"Of course you never knew, you would have fought to keep me there and then your parents would have had to take in the son of a man who sinned against God." John stepped around the desk, coming to stand in front of the young man. "I tried to get back, to try to find you again, but I was a street rat, no one would help me." Sherlock was staring at the wall, completely still aside from the blinking of his eyes. John grabbed his elbow and turned him, reaching up and brushing a stray curl from the young boy's face.

"I looked for you, once I was old enough to leave the Court. No one had seen you in years at that point. Then one day, I was prepping to set sail when one of my ships was attacked. Only one survivor, and all he would say was 'three days. Brig. John Watson.'" John felt a flare of guilt. He remembered that boy, the one his former Captain had locked in the Brig and allowed his crew to rape him brutally.

"I didn't do that. I saved him, staged a whole mutiny to get him out." Sherlock nodded, still barely moving. "I had the entire crew overhauled, killed anyone that agreed with his ways. That's when I became Captain. I had the boy returned to the Courts, made sure he well enough to survive the trip." John released Sherlock's elbow, stepping back and giving the other man some space. "Did he live? The boy?"

"No. He succumbed to fever less than a week after he was brought in." John's chest tightened and he blinked back tears.

"Fuck." He cursed, turning to the wall and slamming his fist against the wall. "That's why you're here, isn't it? You're here to take me in."

"It's my job. You're a pirate, responsible for the deaths of countless members of the Royal Navy-"

"You mean the Royal Navy that kicked me, my mother, my baby sister and my abusive father to the streets? You know what happened to them? Mom went to find food one night, didn't come back. Harriet died of exposure because I was too young to keep her alive. Dad came back to our alley to find me crying over Harriet's frozen body and tried to beat me to death. I had to kill my own father when I was twelve fucking years old because your precious Navy couldn't stand to deal with a scandal." John turned back to Sherlock, a dark grin on his face.

"John-"

"If you're here to kill me and take back my fleet, do it. I deserve that and more for what I've done. I'm not going to fight you." John unbuckled his cutlass belt, letting the weapon clatter to the floor.

Sherlock drew his own sword, stepping closer to John and holding the blade to his throat.

"Pick up your sword."

"No."

"Pick it up!"

"No! Either you kill me now or you let me sail away."

"I won't murder you John."

"Why not? It's not like it's your first kill, you're a Captain in the Royal Navy. You don't get that ranking without having a whole country's worth of blood on your hands."

"Please John-" John lashed out, grabbing Sherlock's blade and stepping closer, feeling the blade tugging at his skin. He positioned himself so that all there was between them was the width of the blade that could kill him. His hand stung where it was wrapped around the blade, but he didn't remove it. "John stop, please don't make me do this."

"I'm not making you do anything. This is your job, remember?"

"Just pick up your blade John."

"Why are you hesitating? Why would the life of one pirate captain you knew fifteen years ago give you such pause? I'm a street rat, son of a vile sinner, a filthy pirate that has committed almost every sin known to man, I've killed hundreds of your men with my own blade, I killed my own fucking father. Why do I matter to the son of a bloody Court Royal?" The room was filled with silence and John could see something new forming on the younger man's face.

Sherlock let go of the sword, stepping back and pulling himself to his full height.

"I refuse to murder a friend." John lowered the sword, blinking up at Sherlock. He laughed, but it came out hollow and empty.

"We haven't been friends in fifteen years Sherlock." The taller man frowned, eyes flicking from John's eyes to his lips for a moment before he suddenly moved.

John's yelp of shock was cut off by Sherlock's lips crashing against his own. The sword clattered to the ground as Sherlock released John's lips, his hands resting on either side of John's face.

'S-Sherlock, w-what the fuck-"

"You were, and have always been my best friend John. I loved you then and I love you now." He leaned down and gently kissed John again, simply a chaste press of the lips that sent John's head reeling. "Please don't make me kill you, John. Please, I couldn't do it." Sherlock kept kissing John softly, the shorter man frozen in shock.

He tasted Sherlock's tears on his lips and his brain jumped into gear. His hands gripped Sherlock's hips tightly and he returned the kisses, leaning up and deepening the kiss. Sherlock made a soft sound and parted his lips, allowing John to dip his tongue into Sherlock's mouth.

When their tongues met, something changed, the kiss moved from soft and comforting, to desperate and heated.

John spun Sherlock around, backing him up against the desk. Sherlock gasped, breaking the kiss as John lifted him onto the desk, sending his logs and personal items crashing to the floor.

They tugged at each other's clothes, tearing buttons and fighting with laces.

Realization hit John like a wall of stone.

"W-Wait- wait!" He pushed Sherlock back, laughing as the younger man tried to follow his lips. "W-What do you want?"

"You. Please John- fuck me, please." John smirked and lowered his lips to meet Sherlock's collarbone.

"Are you sure?" Sherlock growled in frustration and tugged John's hips tight against his own, rubbing their erections together. John groaned and dropped his head against Sherlock's chest as stars danced over his vision.

"Yes, please John. Fuck- please!" John laughed and caught Sherlock's lips in a rough kiss, biting at his lips and sucking on his tongue as he tugged Sherlock trousers and pants off.

"Oil. Desk drawer. Your left." He muttered against Sherlock's lips and he fought with his own trousers. Sherlock reached behind and fumbled with the desk drawer, growling in frustration when he couldn't find the little pot of oil. John chuckled and leaned across the desk, digging in the drawer until he found the oil.

Their eyes met and John hesitated, reading a hint of fear there.

"Sherlock, have you ever-" The younger man shook his head. "W-We don't have to-"

"Don't coddle me John. I know what's supposed to happen and I'm prepared for it." He grabbed John's jacket and tugged him closer, biting his earlobe and lowering his voice. "Now, if you don't hurry up and get fucking me, I'm going to leave." John laughed, reaching up and tugging Sherlock's hair roughly, forcing his head back and biting down on the exposed skin. Sherlock cried out as his hair was pulled.

"I'm the Captain here, and you are my prisoner. I will go at my own pace, and you will love every. Fucking. Second. Understand?" Sherlock whimpered and nodded, the tension in his body falling away as John released his hair. "Perfect." John pulled Sherlock's hips forward and pushed the younger man's upper body back against the desk.

He dipped his fingers in the oil and warmed it slightly before pressing against Sherlock's entrance.

He prepared Sherlock quickly and thoroughly, loving the whimpers and moans he managed to pull from the taller man as he pumped and scissored his fingers into the tight body beneath him.

John pulled his fingers out and quickly slicked his erection, pressing the tip against Sherlock's quivering entrance.

"Remember to breathe, alright Love?" He whispered, resting his hand on Sherlock's cheek as the younger man nodded. He watched Sherlock's face as he pushed in, reading the varying levels of pain that flashed over the man's face.

He went slow, giving Sherlock lots of time to adjust. Once the other man was relaxed, John started a fast, firm pace, shifting the angle of his own hips until Sherlock's back arched and he cried out loudly.

He slid a hand between them after several minutes, gripping Sherlock's leaking erection and stroking him in time with his hips.

Sherlock's moans and whimpers got louder as he neared his climax, practically screaming John's name as he came, covering his chest, stomach and John's hand. John gripped Sherlock's hips hard and sped up his thrusts, pushing roughly into the pliant body beneath him until he came deep within Sherlock's body.

They were still for a while until they had recovered. John slid himself out of Sherlock and cleaned them both up. They were silent as they adjusted their clothes and gathered their blades.

"What are you planning to do with me?" Sherlock asked finally, his voice rough and soft.

"What do you mean? I have no say over your actions."

"I'm your prisoner, remember? Am I to be sent to the Brig? Or will you keep me bound here in your cabin so you can fuck me whenever you want?" John spun on his heel, glaring at Sherlock.

"You are free to leave if you wish. Unless you would rather me keep you bound in here." Sherlock glared at the ground, adjusting his belt and tugging on his sleeves. John grabbed his elbow, stilling his actions. "We can sail to the nearest colony and leave you there if you wish." He pulled Sherlock close and fiddled with the buttons on the taller man's jacket. "Or, you could stay with me." He whispered, blushing as Sherlock stared at him.

"Y-You mean- you want me to- really?" John grinned and nodded, leaning up and kissing his new lover softly.

"You still want to be a pirate Pretty Boy?" Sherlock grinned and nodded, leaning down and kissing John deeply, grinning against his lips.

"Oh, God yes." 


End file.
